


the writing on our skin

by asianladybug (flusteredkeith)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Best Friends to Lovers, F/F, Soulmate AU, Stargazing, Vignettes, alyanette - Freeform, but still sort of canonverse, fox kwami alya, lots of cheese and fluff, mentions of mari/adrien dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 17:42:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11131692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flusteredkeith/pseuds/asianladybug
Summary: "I think sometimes, we just need to do the thing that makes us happiest. And maybe, more often than we think, that fate actually ends up being better than the one we thought we were destined to have.”(A soulmate AU where each soulmate has one half of a quote that is important to their relationship.)





	the writing on our skin

**Author's Note:**

> My one fic for Think Outside the Love Square! This Soulmate AU is based on the rule that each soulmate has one half of a quote that is important to their relationship. I also decided to experiment a bit with the structure of this fic.. I hope it ends up making sense and causing the impact I had hoped, lmao. Otherwise, good attempt, I guess?
> 
> Just assume that even though these quotes are famous, that they've never heard of it before and can't guess, haha.
> 
> Special thanks to [mahaliciously](https://mahaliciously.tumblr.com) for helping me name Alya's fox superhero name.

**3.**

The marks appear halfway through the third trimester of her first year at Dupont. Alya had just gotten out of the shower when she spots it in her bathroom mirror. Etched into the skin beneath her right shoulder blade, the words follow a curved trail along her spine in tiny cursive. It takes the combined help of her Ladybug compact mirror, her camera phone, and a whole lot of squinting for her to finally make out what it says:

_“while loving someone deeply gives you courage”_

No capitalizations. No punctuation marks. No hint of whether the phrase begins or ends the rest of the sentence. It’s so different from the one written on her _maman_ ’s arm:

“ _like bread; remade all the time, made new_ ”

With a quote like that, she could have easily narrowed down the possibilities so that when she finally met Alya’s _papa_ and fell in love, the words would obviously become the latter half of _“love doesn't just sit there, like a stone. it has to be made,”_ —

But it doesn’t matter anyways, because when Marinette calls her the next day to talk about Adrien, Alya decides not to think too much about soulmates just yet. She’s still young.

—

**2.**

“Guess what, Alya?” Marinette says the moment she bursts into the room. She’s carrying her usual shoulder tote and a large shopping bag. Alya pushes herself away from her computer desk and turns her head to face her.

“What’s up?”

Marinette is wiggling her legs — a sure sign of ecstatic excitement — and Alya can’t help but smile as she waits for the big news.

“I got the internship at Gabriel!” she exclaims.

“Congratulations!” Alya says. “I knew you could do it.”

Marinette sinks down onto Alya’s bed and directs a wide grin towards her.

“So? What about you? Have you heard back yet from TVi?” 

“Not yet,” Alya replies, face falling a little. “Probably within the week though.”

“You’re going to get it,” Marinette assures her. She lifts the shopping bag she'd brought and dangles it in front of Alya. “And when you do, you’re going to wear this on your first day.”

“You didn’t.” But even as she says it, Alya takes the bag from Marinette and opens it up. Reaching in, she pulls out the article of clothing.

A sleek, black blazer unfolds itself as she holds it by the shoulder pads. The fabric feels soft and comfortable and she knows without having to try it on that it will be a perfect fit. She flips it over and checks the tag: _M.D.C._  

“I love it,” Alya says. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re going to be great,” Marinette promises. “So naturally, I had to make you something to match.”

“I love you,” Alya tells her without thinking. The words are out there, and she finds she doesn’t regret them.

“I love you, too!” Marinette says cheerfully.

Somehow, Alya doesn’t think they mean the same thing. 

—

**4.**

“Alright, girl, what’s the scoop?”

Alya sets her book bag down on Marinette’s chaise as the raven-haired girl turns around in her computer chair to face her.

“You’ll never believe what I found out today,” Marinette says with a huge grin on her face. There’s a giddiness in her eyes that Alya’s come to associate with promise and hope, if not for herself, then definitely for Mari. 

“Let me guess,” she laughs. “You heard back from the design competition you entered last week and it was good news because you’re so talented.” 

“Ah, well… no,” Marinette says with a sheepish glance at the ceiling. “Although that would’ve been just as exciting.” 

Her hands grip the back of her chair as she wheels herself over towards Alya; she could hardly stop bouncing in her seat. 

“I found out the sentence fragment that’s written on Adrien’s skin!” 

“That’s great!” Alya exclaims. Despite the sinking feeling in her heart, she has no trouble keeping her voice bright and her smile wide. Marinette’s happiness has fueled her own joy so often that it’s become an instinctual habit. Instead, she steps back and says, “You know, I just realized you’ve never told me yours.” 

“Oh! Right you are!” 

Marinette gets up out of her chair and steps closer to Alya, pulling down her shirt just enough for her collarbone to show. Inscripted right below it in neat writing, the words: 

 _“being deeply loved by someone gives you strength”_  

Without thinking, Alya reaches out a hand, fingers brushing across the surface of the black-inked quote. Chills run down her spine as the gentle touch draws goosebumps, and with it, the silent dread that she might have overstepped her boundaries. Quickly withdrawing her arm, she opens her mouth to say sorry, but before an apology makes it out of her throat, she looks up at her best friend and realizes: Marinette hasn’t flinched. 

“So um, yeah,” Alya says, easily brushing off any lingering awkwardness. “What does Adrien’s say?” 

 _“‘It takes a strong heart to love,’”_ she recites. “It’s on his torso.” 

“Oh yeah? How’d you manage to discover that?” Alya says with a smirk. 

“Irrelevant!” Marinette blurts out, waving her hand dismissively. “The point is: they’re both about strength and love! It’s gotta be a match!” 

“Can’t argue with that,” Alya agrees. _Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength; it takes a strong heart to love._ That certainly followed the same idea. But then, unbidden into her mind came the words, pieced together into a full sentence: 

 _“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”_  

But … does it _really_ fit? Or is her mind playing tricks on her? Hope can be a treacherous thing. 

“What about you?” Mari asks. 

“What about me what?” 

“What’s your quote?” 

“Oh! Er—” Alya laughs nervously and shrugs. “Um, it’s—” 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Marinette says with a small smile. “I understand some soulmate quotes might feel personal.” 

“No, no, no, it’s not that,” Alya assures, mind bouncing back fast. Her mind falls on their latest lecture on Rimbaud from this past week. “It’s — _‘only divine love bestows the keys of knowledge.’_ ” 

“Ooh, that sounds like you,” she says excitedly. “I wonder what could fit that.” 

“Well, I’ve got some time to figure it out,” Alya winks. “We’re only fifteen after all.” 

“Yeah, that’s true,” Marinette says with a sigh. She approaches her chaise and lets herself fall into it, sprawled out on her back. “Maybe this will give me the courage I need to tell Adrien I love him.” 

She then proceeds to talk about her plans and postulations for the next twenty minutes. As Alya listens, she’s reminded of her grandma and her grandma’s soulmate’s quote: _“Love is so short, forgetting is so long.”_ Needless to say, that man never became her grandfather. 

And as she thinks about some of the world’s most classic love stories — Pyramus and Thisbe, Romeo and Juliet, Orpheus and Eurydice  — the ill-fated and star-crossed lovers throughout the centuries, a dull ache spreads inside her chest. Just because you were soulmates, it didn’t always mean you ended up together. 

—

**7.**

“Oh, hey there, where’ve you been?” 

Marinette screams and nearly trips over her computer chair as a red ball of something tiny goes flying away from her. 

“A-Alya?” The frantic teenager before her scrambles back to her feet, trying but failing to compose herself. “I thought — I thought you were outside! Filming Ladybug!” 

“I _was_ ,” Alya smirks. Pulling out Marinette’s planner from her bag, she holds it up to her. “Until I saw what you dropped. Would you care to explain why Ladybug was carrying this?” 

“Oh, no,” Marinette cries, grabbing her pigtails and wringing them in her fists. There’s genuine fear in her voice and tears are forming in her eyes. Dropping her teasing smile, Alya gets up at once from the chaise and rushes over to her. 

“Hey, hey,” she says, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Don’t cry. It’s okay. It’s going to be fine.” 

“Alya, I swear, you can’t tell anyone, it’s more than our lives’ worth to tell and you just can’t, you can’t, you can’t—” 

“Shh,” Alya hushes, silencing Marinette with a finger to her lip. “Who do you take me for? I’m not stupid.” 

“No, you’re right. You’re not,” she agrees as she wipes her cheeks with the heel of her palms. Her blue eyes look up into Alya’s and suddenly, it’s a little harder to breathe. “You’re my best friend.” 

—

 **5.**  

Alya loses count of how often she has to talk Marinette up to confessing to Adrien. 

By April of their _1ère_ , Marinette finally does it. She throws her arms around Alya the following weekend and squeezes her tight, whispers: “I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

She couldn’t ignore the feeling of Mari’s palm on her back, unknowingly rubbing circles over the word _courage_. Alya slides her hands up her best friend’s shoulder and buries her nose in the crook of Mari’s neck. 

Perhaps she is wrong about it all. Perhaps her soulmate really did exist somewhere out there under different words, a different name, a different set of beautiful blue eyes. 

(But Alya can’t imagine how any other ocean of deep cerulean could light up as bright as hers do.) 

—

  **6.**

 _“The heart can do anything…”_  

 _“…while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”_  

Not quite. Try again. 

 _“While loving someone deeply gives you courage…”_  

 _“… reason is not what decides love.”_  

Almost, but no cigar. 

 _“The more we love someone, the less we flatter them…”_  

Alya doesn’t even need to pair that up with her half of the quote to know it’s wrong. 

 _“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength…”_  

 _Stop it_ , she tells herself. _She’s with Adrien, the love of her life, now. Stop trying to make words fit where they don’t._  

On the other hand, mixing and matching the text from Molière is the only way she can get through her homework without the writing on Marinette’s skin echoing back to her. 

—

**8.**

Alya empties her book bag onto her bed. 

Out drops a small hexagon-shaped box. 

— 

 **13.**  

Alya knows what she’s going to say before Marinette even opens her mouth. There’s no way the teeth-baring grin and joy brimming from her eyes could mean any other thing. 

“I did it, Alya! I got in! _Prépa_ here I come!” 

“Congratulations!” Alya exclaims. “I always believed in you.” 

“I’m just so glad,” Marinette continues. “All that effort I put into the application process finally paid off and it feels — SO — good.” 

“We need to celebrate, girl,” Alya laughs, patting her on the back. 

“Sleepover at my place?” Marinette suggests, looking hopeful. 

“Sure,” she agrees. Then, before she knows what’s happening, Marinette’s arms are around her and she’s holding Alya close, hands gripping her back. 

“Thank you for everything,” she whispers in Alya’s ear. Her warm breath causes butterflies to flutter in her stomach and her heart is brimming with so many emotions, Alya can’t even begin to express how she feels. 

The best she can do is squeeze Marinette tight and hope the multitude of emotions can seep into her soul. 

—

**10.**

Marinette never rations her coffee well, Alya thinks as the raven-haired girl rambles on and on before her, gesturing with fidgety hands. Her voice grows panicked with each minute as she explains how she’s only three quarters of the way through completing her portfolio for _prépa_ when it’s due in two weeks. 

“Marinette,” Alya says, “You’re the most talented artist of our year. I know everything’s hectic right now, but just hang in there a little longer. You’re definitely going to get in.” 

“No, you’re right, I’m just — I’m freaking out way too much." 

“It’s fine, you can freak out as long as you want with me,” Alya offers. “But I also promise it will be alright in the end.” 

“Thanks Alya.” 

A pause, then, “I don’t know where I’d be without you. No one else encourages me like you do.” 

“What about Adrien?” 

Marinette gives a small smile but Alya notices it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Adrien’s great and all but…I don’t know.” And she leaves it at that. 

“Is he not a supportive boyfriend, because if so, he’ll have me to answer to,” Alya smirks. 

“No, it’s not that,” she sighs. “He’s actually _very_ supportive but he’s too… soft. I don’t really feel pushed or challenged by his encouragement. They’re nothing like Alya-pep-talks. Is that bad of me to say?” 

“Hey, how you feel is how you feel,” Alya reasons. 

“Yeah… I suppose.” 

But something about the way her face falls tells Alya it’s been bothering her for a long time. Given the high-strung, panicked state Marinette is in, Alya doesn’t pry further. Instead, she brings the attention back to Mari’s _prépa_ application. 

“Well, you’ve got two weeks until the thing’s due,” Alya says. “If you stay focused, that’s plenty of time to get through the last quarter of your portfolio and application. You’re going to kill it.” 

“With you by my side?” she says with a smile. “Definitely.” 

— 

 **11.**  

“Alya?” 

“Hmm?” 

Alya turns in bed to face her. Marinette’s eyes are sad and empty as she lays still and stares up at the ceiling. Taking a deep quivering breath, she exhales and closes her eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” Alya asks, and her mind immediately thinks about all the ways Marinette could possibly be hurting and all the things she can possibly do to make her feel better. 

“I don’t know,” she sighs. “I… I just feel like… when I think about everything, there’s just… something missing, I guess.” 

“You’re gonna have to be more specific.” Alya props her chin up with her knuckles and looks down on Marinette. She opens her eyes and shifts her gaze towards Alya. 

“It’s just… there’s only one more trimester left of high school, so I’ve been thinking a lot about my future — like trying to get into an art _prépa_ , where I’ll be headed after that, and… what will happen with Adrien. And I just—” 

She breaks off; her voice cracks yet she does not cry. 

“Dating Adrien was something I’d wanted for a long time,” she continues. “But after this past year of being together… I’m just… I don’t know what to make of it in terms of, well — the future.” 

Alya notices Marinette’s fingers absentmindedly stroking her soulmate quote at her collarbone. 

“What do you mean?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Something’s not right,” Marinette replies. “Something is missing. And the longer we’re together, the less I’m convinced that our two quotes put together mean anything that is significant to our relationship.” 

“Well, sometimes, I think we all try to live too closely by the words on our skin,” Alya says. There’s a dull ache in her chest and a tightness in her throat, but she forces herself to keep talking. “Sometimes, you don’t end up with your soulmate. Sometimes, the words mean much less than we think they do. We all may have a soulmate and we all may have words etched onto us, but… we also have free will and the choice to be who we are. I think sometimes, we just need to do the thing that makes us happiest. And maybe, more often than we think, that fate actually ends up being better than the one we thought we were destined to have.” 

“Huh,” Marinette says thoughtfully. There’s a hunger for understanding in her eyes as she turns her head to face Alya and Alya's heart lurches at the sight of her slightly parted lips. 

“So you’re saying that if Adrien makes me happy, it doesn’t matter if he’s my soulmate or not?” 

“Yep.” 

“Hmm. Interesting.” Marinette muses, then: “Who makes _you_ happy?” 

Alya smiles. 

“My soulmate.”

—

**9.**

“I’m so sorry I mistook you for Volpina,” Ladybug says, turning to Alya after her miraculous ladybug cleaned up the entire city. 

“It’s understandable,” Alya shrugs. “Our costume does have several similarities, and she _was_ a good illusionist.” 

“But it’s definitely clear now from your behavior that you’re not the same person.” Marinette smiles. “Welcome to your first day of being a superhero.” 

“Oh man,” Alya exhales, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she had just given a helping hand in saving Paris. “You know, I’ve always dreamed of being a superhero but, now that I am one, it’s kind of daunting. There’s so much riding on you.” 

“Don’t worry,” Marinette laughed. “You’re doing so much better than I did when I first became Ladybug. I had the same fears, if not more.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Oh, yeah, I was terrified because I didn’t think my kwami chose the right person. Up until then, I didn’t think I was capable.” 

 _Beep beep._  

“Oh, no, we should probably run,” she says, raising a finger to her earrings. “But before you go, let me just share with you what my best friend told me a long time ago.” 

“What’s that?” Alya asks. 

“‘The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing.’” 

Her heart swells; emotion prickles at the corner of her eyes. Alya nods and, with a small smile, says, “Sounds like a wise friend.” 

“She is,” Marinette agrees wholeheartedly. “So, don’t worry, _Vorpaline_. You’re going to be great.” 

— 

**12.**

As usual, Marinette finds her at the end of class one Friday. Alya gets up from the bench in front of school and waits for Marinette to reach her. Expecting to head straight to the ice cream shop for their routine start-of-weekend festivities, she is therefore alarmed to see a downcast and serious look on her best friend’s face. 

“We broke up,” she says. 

“What?” Alya asks, shocked. “Why? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

“No, it’s okay,” Marinette assures with a gentle bob of her head. “I’m fine. I’m… actually not as sad as I thought I’d be.” 

Frowning, Alya gives her a suspicious look. She wouldn’t put it past Mari to pretend like things were okay. 

“You’re not?” 

“Yeah, really,” Marinette promises, a solemn smile on her face. “I cried a lot last night once I got home from his place, but when I woke up this morning, I felt… renewed.” 

“Are you sure?” Alya places a hand on her shoulder in hopes of comforting her. “I mean… you’ve been dating a long time and you’ve crushed on him for even longer than that, so…” 

“Yeah, it’s strange, I guess,” she shrugs. “But, it just really felt like the right thing to do, you know?” 

“Sure,” Alya nods, her brows furrowed in concern regardless. “Well. Break-ups are always hard no matter what the circumstances are. There’s an adjustment period either way. So if you need anything, anything at all, I’m here for you.” 

“Thanks,” Mari smiles. Then, without warning, she throws her arms around Alya and grips her tight. 

“I love you, Alya.” 

Alya breathes in and relishes those words, squeezing Marinette just a little tighter back. 

“I love you, too.” 

— 

**14.**

The summer night is warm and still. It wraps itself around Alya like a comforting hug, tucking her in beneath her blanket. Taking in a deep breath, she exhales and snuggles deeper into the lawn chair they rented. 

“I can’t believe we actually made it out here,” Alya says, staring up at the sky. 

“I can’t believe we graduated last week,” Marinette adds. 

“I know,” Alya groans. “God, it feels like just yesterday when we first met. Now look where we are.” 

“The future is out there,” Marinette proclaims as she raises a hand and makes a sweeping gesture across the night. “The possibilities are endless.” 

 _Possibilities_. The word sends a rush of hope surging through her chest as everything she’s known before falls away behind her. She’s standing at the edge of something new and millions of possibilities flash through her mind — university, opportunities, internships, new people, career, job, life, but most of all — _Marinette, Marinette, Marinette_ … 

“Yeah, the possibilities are endless,” she repeats. Turning her head to face Mari, she smiles. “And I’m really glad I get to share this with you.” 

“Me too, Alya,” Marinette replies, meeting her eyes. “Me too.” 

As they continue to gaze up at the dark expanse above them, they point out the constellations and fathom what it would be like to reach for the stars. 

—

 **15.**  

“Only one way to really top off the end of _terminale_ ,” Marinette declares, raising a mug of hot chocolate to Alya. “The defeat of Evil.” 

“Yeah, I’ll say,” Alya says, tapping her own cup against hers before they both take a long sip. “It just feels so surreal that it’s over.” 

“Mmm,” Marinette hums in agreement. Alya surveys her out of the corner of her eye. 

“It must be even weirder for you, since you’ve been a superhero longer, huh?” she asks. 

“Not too much longer,” Marinette reminds her. Sighing, she leans against the balcony railing and stares out at the city of Paris. 

“Can you imagine not being superheroes anymore?” she continues. “We’ll just fade away into the past and vanish, like the previous kwami holders. It’s like we’re not really needed anymore.” 

“Oh, you know that’s not true,” Alya tells her. “As long as there are people living together in one city, superheroes will always be needed.” 

Marinette laughs. “Yeah, but… I guess now, the _‘experts’_ can handle it from here.” 

“Well, it’s about time we let the police do what they’re paid to do,” Alya smirks. 

They fall into a comfortable silence, listening to the soft _whir_ of cars passing below them. Now that both _terminale_ and their time as superheros have ended, Alya can’t help but worry that moments like these — together, drinking hot chocolate on Marinette’s roof — will become far and few in between. So closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath and drinks in the moment. 

“Hey, Alya?” 

“Mm-hmm?” Alya cracks an eye open to look at her. 

“I just want you to know that without you, there wouldn’t have even been a Ladybug,” she says. 

“You need to give yourself more credit, girl. But… I’ll take it,” Alya winks. 

“No, but seriously,” Marinette presses on, giving Alya a hard look. “You had so much faith in Ladybug before I even had faith in myself. So when I finally saw you were in trouble the first two days of being Ladybug, it really gave me the courage to take up the mantle and step into my destiny. So thank you.” 

She raised a hand to cup Alya’s cheek. Heart pounding fast, Alya is frozen to the spot and, for what feels like the hundredth time, dares to hope. 

But before she knows it, the moment is gone. Marinette drops her hand and stares down at her hot chocolate. 

For the rest of the night, Alya still feels the electricity buzzing beneath her skin. 

— 

**1.**

She’s timid and a little bit clumsy, drops her box of macarons and fumbles for an apology. 

“I wish I could stand up to Chloe like you.” 

But even as she says it, Alya doesn’t believe for a second that this girl can’t do it. She thinks about Majestia, about the triumph of evil, about the general welfare of the common people, and knows without a doubt that this girl can rise above it. 

“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing.” 

Alya places her hand on her shoulder, grips it tight. 

“So starting now, you need to be more confident, uh…” 

The girl breaks the only macaron left in half and hands it to her. 

“Marinette.” 

“Alya.” 

She’s timid and a little bit clumsy, but when Alya looks into her eyes, she sees a hidden strength that’s waiting for the right moment to burst into light. 

—

**16.**

“Alya! 

She hears her voice before Marinette comes bursting into her room. Slightly alarmed by her unannounced presence, Alya looks up at once, startled. There are so many instances in the past where Mari’s done this, but none quite like tonight. Out of breath and gasping for air, Alya sees a desperate look in her eyes, hungry and searching for answers. 

“What is it?” Alya asks. “Is everything okay?” 

“Alya, I have to tell you,” Marinette pants, walking up to her and pulling Alya out of her computer chair. “I was thinking about a lot of things last night after you left, and I thought a lot about how yesterday, when I told you I couldn’t have been Ladybug without you, you told me I really helped give you strength to fight and be the best Vorpaline you can be too, and just, while I was lying in bed about to fall asleep, everything just suddenly clicked. Then earlier today, I thought about how you said once before that even if I weren’t soulmates with someone, I could still choose to be with them as long as they made me happy. And then, well, after all that, I thought: you. You make me happy, Alya, and I don’t care what’s written on your skin.” 

“Wait, what?” Alya asks, even though she knows she hasn’t misheard. Her mind is whirling and her feet are rooted to the spot as her brain tries to process and reprocess everything that was just said. “Mari, I—” 

“And because of that, I started thinking more and more about the whole idea of soulmate quotes and you and me and how it all fits together, and then I remembered what you said your soulmate quote was. _‘Only divine love bestows the keys of knowledge.’_ ” Marinette pauses to take a deep breath. “But then. I just, I don’t know, I kept thinking about it more and more and more and — well. I realized something.” 

Alya blinks, waiting for her to continue. When Mari doesn’t, she realizes it’s her turn to talk. “What is it?” 

“That’s not your soulmate quote, is it?” 

Alya stares at her for a long moment before sighing. Turning her back to Mari, she pulls her shirt up halfway so that her marks are exposed. Marinette reaches out and runs a finger over the words, her touch sending chills down Alya’s spine. Her heart is pounding a million miles a minute, she imagines Marinette must be feeling it, too. 

“ _‘While loving someone deeply gives you courage,’_ ” Marinette whispers. “I can’t believe it. It was you all along.” 

Alya pulls her shirt back down and turns to face Marinette. “I’m sorry I lied.” 

“This whole time… Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

“It’s something you needed to figure out for yourself,” Alya shrugs. “I wanted you to be happy. I wanted you to have the best future possible and I wanted you to be able to choose the best thing that would help you achieve that.” 

Silent and wide-eyed, Marinette gazes at her in amazement. Taking one of Alya’s hand in hers, she intertwines their fingers together and smiles. 

“Well, I think I’ve figured it out. I love you, and I always have.” A flash of doubt suddenly crosses Marinette’s face. “Um, what about you? How… how do you feel?” 

In response, Alya tugs on her hand and pulls her into a kiss. Bringing her other hand up, she runs a thumb over the words etched into Marinette’s collarbone, memorizes the feel, and smiles against her lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me at my ML blog [@asianladybug](http://asianladybug.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
